


Compartmentalization for Dummies

by asuralucier



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: A tussle turned sexy, Ambiguous Canon Timeline, Background Political Intrigue, Banter, Clothed Sex, Couch Sex, Held Down, M/M, Oral Sex, Pinned by wrists, Power Imbalance, Rimming, Sex as distraction, Slap Slap Kiss, Suit Kink, frienemies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/pseuds/asuralucier
Summary: “You could sack me,” Reno drawled, “but then there’d be no one around to save your ass, yo.” So long as Rufus’s mind was set anyway, Reno was going to enjoy riling him up for all it was worth.With President Shinra in critical condition after a botched assassination attempt, Rufus and Reno let off some steam.
Relationships: Reno/Rufus Shinra
Comments: 7
Kudos: 130
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Compartmentalization for Dummies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pirotess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirotess/gifts).



“Where’s Tseng?”

Reno pushed past Rufus Shinra and into an inconspicuous suite on the fifth floor of the Midgar Millenium Hotel. Although the Shinra insignia was nowhere to be found on its premises, they basically had free range of the place for reasons Reno didn’t need to know and plus, was too lazy to contemplate at this juncture. 

“He lives in my head like a good little Diablo and tells me what to do,” Reno responded dryly, edging the door closed with his boot. “Joking. Something came up.” 

Rufus, impeccably dressed, but looking otherwise like he hadn’t slept a wink for days, crossed his arms and looked unamused. Reno met him stare for stare until the tension snapped.

Reno threw up his hands. “Look. I dunno, all right? He got a call and ran off, said I should come here and so I did. Guess it’s kinda a need-to-know basis and we don’t make the cut or some shit.” 

Rufus hissed through his nose, and even the flare of his nostrils was kind of attractive and, shit. Thankfully, Rufus chose that moment to turn away from Reno, as if he was trying to gather himself back together. “Do you forget who I am?” 

It was strange to think of it in those terms, but Reno had been a Turk now for most of his adult life, and the nature of his work meant that Rufus Shinra was usually nearby being some version of an insufferable asshole. They’d grown up together in a way, but they weren’t brothers, weren’t friends, weren’t any damn thing. Reno shrugged, “C’mon, I’m not that bad, your name’s like, on the door.” 

Rufus glowered at him some more. 

“I. Don’t. Know. Where. Tseng. Is,” Reno said again, this time, with a gap for emphasis between each word. While he tried not to show it, Tseng’s going off-grid worried him. Sometimes, Reno could put the pieces together, but not this time. “Here.” He fumbled for his PHS and tossed it in Rufus’s direction. “Call him if you want. It won’t make a difference.” 

Rufus pivoted and caught the PHS in his hand without any trouble, not that Reno was expecting any. Rufus stared at the device for a moment longer and then dialed, holding the PHS to his ear. As he waited, his frown deepened. Then he said, “This is Rufus Shinra. I demand that you call me. This instant.” After he cut the call, Rufus simmered some more and handed the device back to Reno with a surprising amount of civility.

Reno half expected the PHS to ring the moment he got it back. Tseng was better about orders than he was, miles better, but as it didn’t, Reno pocketed it again and adjusted his jacket. He wasn’t dressed in his usual fare and found the getup constricting. But Tseng had been firm: “I’m not having you attend a funeral dressed like a hooker.” 

(Reno’s response: “Do you think I look like a hooker, boss? I guess ’m flattered.” Clearly, he’d chosen the wrong line of work to get into.)

But anyway. 

Rufus was staring out the window. Reno was suddenly very aware that for all the perks offered by the Midgar Millenium, bulletproof glass was expensive as all hell. He couldn’t be sure. “Hey.” 

“What.” 

“Get away from the window,” Reno said, and added, “please.” After that, he added, “sir.” His mouth went funny every time he called Rufus “sir.” He tried to do it as little as possible, although Reno probably needed the practice. 

Rufus opened his mouth, maybe to argue, and then he gave up. He strode quickly away from the window after shutting the heavy curtains. When he sat down on one of the plush couches, he appeared, not as the heir apparent of the most powerful corporation in the world on possibly the eve of his ascension, instead, he just looked like some damn kid who desperately needed sleep. 

Speaking of sleep, Reno stifled a yawn of his own and sat too. He was nominally aware of his PHS in his pocket, and how it hadn’t buzzed, and more practically aware too, of his pack of cigarettes in his other pocket and how he desperately needed a smoke. 

“You can’t smoke in here,” Rufus spoke. 

“Says who,” Reno said, for the sake of completeness. He shook out a fresh one anyway, tapping the box idly against one knee. 

“This is a non-smoking suite.” Rufus gestured, and Reno followed his gloved finger to a sign beside the door that pointedly said as much. 

“Yeah, and we both know you’re a stickler for the rules, aren’t you? Sir.” Fuck it, Reno lit up anyway; whatever Rufus could pull out of his pretty little ass, he was sure he could handle. Unless Reno got the boot for running his mouth, which would actually be terrible and inconvenient, but also not the end of the world. It was kinda funny too, how once Reno thought about everything in terms of the world ending, things were suddenly just okay again. 

Reno drew a long drag from his cigarette and this time, the familiar pang of nicotine was made infinitely better by Rufus’s perpetual glare. He exhaled, towards the ceiling, until he wasn’t doing that because–

“I could sack you for speaking out of turn,” Rufus said, inches away from Reno’s face. He’d angled his knee just so on the sofa, where it was entirely too close to Reno’s crotch, but he’d called that too, Rufus Shinra liked having rules to lord over his minions, but when it came to following protocol himself, well. Too much of a hassle or something. Besides, that was the whole thing about being head honcho and rules, wasn’t it? 

“You could sack me,” Reno drawled, “but then there’d be no one around to save your ass, yo.” So long as Rufus’s mind was set anyway, Reno was going to enjoy riling him up for all it was worth.

Rufus’s expression pinched at that, as if he’d eaten something unpleasant, and that was all the warning Reno got before he felt a swift yank to his collar and then his throat closed accordingly. 

Rufus had a fistful of Reno’s once immaculately knotted tie, reminding Reno precisely why he hated ties. It wasn’t even just the principle of the thing. 

Rufus said, deadly quiet, “Do you think I need babysitting, Reno? That I can’t look after–” here, his grip tightened meaningfully, “that I can’t look after myself?” But his face was still so close and Reno felt him all over. 

Okay, so. This was kind of dumb, but Reno had no one else but himself to blame for being put into a bind like this. Rufus reached for Reno’s cigarette and leaned away to stub it out, possibly on the glass table within arm’s reach. That the table didn’t appear to have an ashtray on it, but if Rufus presumably didn’t give a fuck and if he did, he could probably buy the entire floor new ashtrays. The place would be swimming in them. 

But the few seconds of Rufus not exactly paying attention to him was all the advantage Reno needed. He had had some time now to get used to the discomfort of not being able to really breathe–and yeah, he’d like to get out of this now, thanks. 

Reno moved quickly, careful not to accidentally yoke himself with his own tie as he maneuvered to dig an elbow into Rufus’s kidney, the other man hissed in surprise and loosened his grip.

In an instant, it was Reno with the upper hand. Even as he was careful to steer clear of the lit cigarette in Rufus’s hand (why waste a good smoke?) he still managed to get Rufus flat on his back on the sofa, pinning his hands firmly above the big boss’s head by holding his wrists. 

Rufus’s entire body tensed beneath Reno, like a bullet sat snug in a chamber of a gun, ready and willing. Although the tension was all but singing from his taut, cautious muscles, he didn’t struggle. Reno didn’t expect him to either, really. He reached to pluck the cigarette out of Rufus’s grasp and the other man’s fingers put up nominal resistance. 

“I’ll have that back, yeah?” 

Rufus scowled, “Fucking let go of me. You’re going to ruin my suit.” 

Well, lookit. You squeeze a rich asshole just right, and he swore like the worst of them slum denizen pigs. 

Aside from a few wrinkles leftover from their brief struggle, Reno didn’t see anything wrong with Rufus’s suit that wouldn’t come out in the wash. But then, his was a layman’s eye of the worst kind, as slummy as they came. Reno wasn’t ashamed of it, neither. He raised an eyebrow and helped himself to a well deserved suck of his cigarette, grinning widely. “That’s what you worry about?” 

Rufus bit his lip, as if the little prick of pain reminded him of something. He slid away from Reno’s gaze, not avoiding him exactly, but something else. Anyway, Reno wasn’t really thinking about that, either as his eyes had nowhere to look but Rufus’s neck, pale and pretty and vulnerable. 

Rufus said, finally, “Yes, my old man is in critical condition and you went to his funeral and I. That’s what I worry about.” 

Speaking of the President’s makeshift funeral, Reno was suddenly aware that he was still wearing a goddamn tie. He jerked it off and instantly felt better. Now the only thing that could conceivably get him was somebody’s grip and before anybody got that close to him, maybe they’d have broken fingers to contend with, first. 

One side of Rufus’s mouth lifted. “And how was the President’s funeral?” 

“Nobody died.” Reno shrugged. “The food was all right, and the boss made a rousing speech.” 

“Really,” Rufus said, searching Reno’s eyes for who knew what. “What’d he say?” 

“Haven’t got a fucking clue,” said Reno, “sir.” 

Rufus snorted; but for all its impolite implications, it was still one of the politest sounds Reno had ever heard. Maybe Rufus went to school for that sort of thing. “I’d like you to let go of me now.” 

“Aw, for real?” Reno peered down at him and pinched his wrists more tightly for good measure. “But we were just starting to get along. ‘M I still sacked?” 

Rufus merely gave him a look. “I don’t _have_ to ask politely, Reno. But I am. What does that tell you?” 

Point. 

Plus, Rufus wasn’t after him to put out his cigarette anymore, which either meant the man was either biding his time, or he really didn’t give a shit about the rules, since there wasn’t anyone else to posture to around here. Reno bided his time too, drawing from his cigarette, just in case. “Maybe a dozen things, it’s hard to pick just one, you know?” 

“Well, I never thought you were stupid, Reno.” A backhanded compliment if he’d ever heard one, but Reno figured it was pretty good for now, considering well, Rufus, and the fact that he was still held down. Maybe the guy had the right to be at least a little bit ticked off. 

“Thank you, sir.” Reno let him up after that; one good turn deserved another, and he wasn’t completely taking the piss when he said that he and the Vice President of Shinra were starting to get along. 

Reno liked getting along with people, after all. Not especially bosses, but he liked Tseng fine, and as things went, Reno had the odd sinking feeling that for all the assassination attempts going on around here, the emphasis was all on “attempts” and not on “assassinations.” Not that Reno should be particularly upset about that really, the Turks being good at a job. It just meant that Rufus Shinra was probably going to stick around for a while, like Dear Old Dad, or maybe not. 

Rufus nodded something close to thanks as he leveraged himself up by his elbows. And then, although Reno was certain that there was absolutely no harm done to Rufus’s fucking suit, the kid made a big damn deal of checking his getup from top to bottom. Lapels, cuffs, buttons, the whole works. 

“Okay?” asked Reno, not even to be glib. 

“Okay,” Rufus affirmed, and swung a right hook. The punch connected very surely with the underside of Reno’s jaw, hard enough so he could feel his teeth clattering, although nothing dislodged. 

“ _Shit…!_ ”

After that, it was all a blur. When he came to again, Reno was the one pinned on the couch, with one of Reno’s knees digging into his lungs. Rufus leered just above him, making a show of checking his knuckles.

Reno looked around for his cigarette the best he could and found it on the floor not far away. Probably within arm’s reach.

“Don’t even think about it.” 

“Okay.” Easy enough to do. There were plenty of other things to think about, after all. Such as the fact that Rufus could have dragged his knee up a couple of inches and be sitting pretty on Reno’s throat instead. Reno tried to think of all the reasons Rufus would choose not to do that. 

“And, by the way for the record, yes.” 

Reno blinked up at him, “Yes, what?” 

“Yes, you’re still sacked.” Rufus met his gaze: young, cruel, and lovely. All things Reno probably would have liked in a guy if said guy wasn’t Rufus Shinra. Bad fucking idea. 

“I’ll blow you if you take it back, sir, pretty please.” Reno said, and he said it for a joke, because Reno said a lot of things for a joke. He wouldn’t trade his mag-rod for his sterling wit, but sometimes a well-timed joke saved his ass and maybe he and Rufus profoundly disagreed on what counted as a joke.

Rufus had turned his attention back to his knuckles again, but he appeared to be listening. “What did you say?” 

“I said I’d.” Reno swallowed; this was one of those jokes where telling it a second time wasn’t so funny. “I’d blow you if you take it back.” 

Rufus still pressed forward. “You said something else, too.” 

Reno looked away. “Pretty please.” And then, “Sir.” Just for good measure. 

Reno was suddenly aware of how close they were, how his assumptions of Rufus could be very upended because hey, Rufus was human after all. He had blood in his veins, and more importantly, in his dick.

Reno could work with that. More than work with, but maybe for once, he’d take Tseng’s advice and start small. 

Reno yanked Rufus down by his tie and before Rufus could object, Reno claimed his mouth in a rough kiss. As far as he was concerned, he was still fired, and ergo allowed some leeway. This probably wasn’t even insubordination. Rufus tasted like very harsh coffee, the bitterness of it clinging to his tongue as he licked Reno’s teeth, grabbing him firmly by the back of the neck so that Reno couldn’t move again. 

Okay, that Reno was not expecting. But maybe even someone like Rufus Shinra needed to let off steam once in a while. And it wasn’t as if Reno had anything to complain about really. 

Especially now, with Rufus looking like this: skin flushed with excitement, his lips slightly parted and his blue eyes not stern or cold, but cloudy and dare Reno say it—a little turned on. 

Before Reno could open his mouth to gloat, Rufus said, looking down at himself, “You fucking ripped my tie.” 

“Did I?” Reno was getting to like the way Rufus said “fuck,” there was just something inviting and earnest about it. Like Rufus only let the word out when he actually meant it. He turned his gaze to Rufus’s tie, still caught in his grip (because of course the bastard wore one even when he didn’t have any damn meetings) and there was indeed a tear at the edge of what was probably very expensive silk. Probably imported, from Wutai or something. “Can barely see it.” 

“That is not an excuse.” 

“Course it isn’t, sir.” Reno spread a hand against Rufus’s throat, admiring the way it twitched against his touch. But even as he didn’t squeeze, a little sound made its way out of Rufus’s mouth, and the man colored and looked away. Reno pinched him under the chin.

“...What was that?” 

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Reno smirked. Even though Rufus wasn’t saying much with his mouth, he was saying plenty with his body. Mostly his dick again, which Reno could feel hardening beneath Rufus’s nice expensive suit. Reno trailed his hand meaningfully down from Rufus’s throat, to his chest, torso, and then finally stopping above his belt buckle. 

“Let me make it up to you, sir.” Reno grinned, pulling Rufus close again. This time, since it was the third time, it cost less. “Pretty please.”

-

Rufus Shinra had a nice cock. It was thick, full and flushed and Reno went to work, lapping at the head, which twiched against his tongue. Reno was also possibly going to hate himself for thinking this later, but now was not later. For now, he’d think that this was hardly the worst thing he could be doing, or the worst thing he could be looking at.

Rufus laid back on the couch, clothed but not really. The bits of skin that Reno could see stood out now against the pale colors of his suit. Loose strands of Rufus’s usually well-behaved blond hair were matted against his forehead, falling over his closed eyes . Rufus was either taking care not to arch his hips up too much to not seem so eager...or he wasn’t here at all.

Reno skimmed his teeth carefully against the sensitive skin of Rufus’s dick and felt a slightly unkind grip in his hair. 

“What the fuck?” 

There it was, fuck again. Rufus was really landing them left and right. Since Reno couldn’t exactly smirk or talk with his mouth full, he let go of Rufus for the moment with an obscene plop and looked up at him. 

“Just wanted to check if you were with me, sir.” 

Rufus’s grasp tightened and Reno wondered for the moment if he was going to have to pay, maybe with Rufus’s cock rammed down his throat when he least expected it, which was fine, really, Reno liked a challenge.

But then Rufus let go of him. “Do you think the President’s going to die?” 

“Um,” said Reno. “That’s a question for the docs, yo. If you want to speak to them while I’m sucking you off then I’ve misjudged you, sir.” 

Rufus kept looking at him and something, a very hard something in Reno that wasn’t his dick wobbled and gave. But he was hard there too, and that was something. Hard enough to feel it straining against his too tight funeral fucking trousers.

“Fuck off,” Rufus snarled. But beneath the easy, reactive anger, Reno thought he could hear something else too. Something like relief. 

Reno was going to have to try harder, a lot harder, that was all. He took Rufus back into his mouth again and sucked him all the way down, until his dick hit the back of his throat. Rufus moaned, really moaned, and Reno was going to hate himself later for thinking that was actually pretty hot. 

But now was not later either. Reno licked Rufus’s dick from the head to its base, as if he was chasing the taste of his own spit. He tongued past Rufus’s balls, and as his hands worked to tug Rufus’s trousers and shorts down to his knees, so that he could press his tongue into Rufus’s ass. Rufus was probably clean even down there. 

Reno held Rufus by one of his ankles so that he wouldn’t be kicked in the face, but soon, Reno’s tongue and the rest of Rufus’s body began to open up, trading one sort of tension for another as Rufus began to grind his hips in hard little circles, arching in for more of Reno’s tongue. He thought he could do this for a while. Maybe a few hours. However the fuck long it took even if Rufus was already leaking precome the last time Reno had checked. 

“Just—stop that and fuck me.” 

Reno had to rearrange several parts of himself before he could reply. He licked his lips and looked up. “What?” 

“I said—” Rufus swallowed. “Fuck me. Pretty please.” Hey, a sense of humor. Maybe? 

“Oh, when you ask me like that, sir, how could I resist?” It wasn’t a matter of resistance as it was _about damn fucking time_ but for once, Reno was mindful of his station. He kicked off his trousers the best he could and licked a line down his own palm. He was decently hard already, but still. Wouldn’t want to hurt Shinra’s hopes and dreams any more than he had to. 

Reno let go of Rufus’s ankle and dragged himself up the line of Rufus’s body. He was almost tempted to smear the head of his cock against the edge of Rufus’s now not-so-nice dress shirt, but Rufus dissuaded him from that, yanking Reno close by his hair, so they could kiss. 

Something else Reno was learning again about Rufus: the guy wasn’t shy about getting his hands dirty with the right incentive. But maybe that was something he already knew, just not while Rufus wanted to be fucked. Really gave a new dimension to the whole thing. Reno teased his cock against the tight rim of Rufus’s hole, always starting to press in, but then withdrawing at the last second. 

Rufus arched forward and then made a noise when Reno pulled away again. Finally, Reno felt Rufus’s heels dig in tellingly against his spine. Rufus said, “What are you doing?” 

“Enjoying myself,” Reno grinned down at him showing teeth. “Or is that not allowed anymore?” 

Rufus glared at him. “You’re a real fucker, you know that?” 

“I aspire to fake fucking all my life,” Reno said. “Come on, let go of me. The angle ain’t right.” 

That did the trick, and maybe the next time Reno wanted to make the Vice President of the Shinra Company do anything, he’d lick his ass first. Definitely not a piece of gossip he was going to spread around the office. Hauling Rufus to him again by the hips, Reno held him still as all of Rufus seemed to strain for touch. 

But _fuck_ , Rufus was tight. With one hand still on Rufus’s hip as an anchor, Reno’s other hand found Rufus’s dick pressed between them and stroked him in time with his thrusts into Rufus. That earned Reno one of those moans, and he felt the sound go straight down to his balls, as Rufus clenched around him. 

“I think I deserve a promotion,” Reno murmured against Rufus’s neck. “Don’t you, sir?” And then, just because Reno didn’t want to give Rufus a complex about anything, and also plus, it was _true_ , he added, “By the way, sir, you’re really hot.” 

Rufus looked like he was getting ready to smirk, but Reno didn’t want to give him a chance. He snapped his hips forward hard, and Rufus’s mouth hung open as he let out a, “ _Fuck_.” 

Reno had lost track by now how many times Rufus had said, “fuck,” but that didn’t matter because he wanted to hear it over, and over, and over again. 

“You talk too much,” Rufus scowled. “I liked it better when your mouth was full. Stop calling me sir.” 

“Yeah?” Reno grinned, “I’ll remember that, s—Rufus.” 

Eventually, Rufus’s hand was an iron claw against the side of his neck and digging into his collarbone. The rhythm was still too quick, too rough and scattered. Rufus kept saying _fuck_ , and even _please_ once in a while against Reno’s mouth, and when Reno came inside of him with a muffled moan against Rufus’s neck, he could hear his PHS buzzing from somewhere. 

Tseng always had fucking great timing.

-

“He’s uh.” Reno thought fast, and then told the truth anyway; he didn’t exactly mean to. Tseng had that effect on him. “He’s sleeping, boss. Just didn’t want you to disturb the VP’s beauty sleep, is all.”

Tseng looked at Reno evenly, and in some ways, Reno thanked the gods that Tseng had trained this very stare on Reno loads of times. Reno was probably never going to be out from under it, but at least now, he could stand his ground against it...sort of. 

“You better not have given him stigma,” said Tseng, emphasizing this point with his arms crossed. “We might need The Vice President in a presentable state in a little while. In case anything happens.” 

“I’m a law-abiding citizen of this here great company yo. Stigma is illegal,” Reno told him, scratching idly at his collarbone. He tried not to think about how Rufus had pinched him there, while he pressed his hips forward, wanting to be fucked—

“Anyway, what’s gonna happen, boss?” 

Everything about Tseng said that he wasn’t buying this act. He said, “Maybe nothing. Is there really nothing I have to worry about in there?” He gestured towards the door and Reno had to make a split second decision whether or not to make a desperate dive for the door. 

In the end Reno decided not to. No sense in ruining his suit twice. “Ruf—I mean, the Vice President wanted some help getting to sleep. It don’t look good if he keels over too, yes?” 

Tseng shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I really don’t want to know, do I?” 

Reno shrugged. “Nope, not really.” 

“All right.” Finally, Tseng moved away from the door and Reno let out a breath he’d been holding for who knew how long. “Come on then, we’ve already wasted so much time.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Stigma" is obviously an Enemy Move in game that causes "Slow"...I thought it was also the perfect name for an in-universe drug? Idk.
> 
> Edit 26/04/20: As ever, thanks to ictus, smut clinician extraordinaire (I'm totally trying to make this a thing.)


End file.
